Sir Hugh Walpole: 12 books

Sir Hugh Seymour Walpole, CBE (13 March 1884 – 1 June 1941) was an English novelist. He was the son of an Anglican clergyman, intended for a career in the church but drawn instead to writing. Among those who encouraged him were the authors Henry James and Arnold Bennett. His skill at scene-setting...

The Secret City was written in the year 1919 by Sir Hugh Walpole. This book is one of the most popular novels of Sir Hugh Walpole, and has been translated into several other languages around the world. This book is published by Booklassic which brings young readers closer to classic literature globally.

Jeremy is the first of a trilogy of coming of age stories published by Sir Hugh Walpole. Published in 1919 to critical acclaim across the world, it quickly became a bestseller.Jeremy was published in 1919 and is the first book of the Jeremy trilogy - Jeremy and Hamlet (1923) and Jeremy at Crale (1927)....

When Hugh Seymour was nine years of age he was sent from Ceylon, where his parents lived, to be educated in England. His relations having, for the most part, settled in foreign countries, he spent his holidays as a very minute and pale-faced paying guest in various houses where other children were of...

When Edward J. O'Brien asked me to cooperate with him in choosing each year's best English short stories, to be published as a companion volume to his annual selection of the best American short stories, I had not realized that at the end of my arduous task, which has involved the reading of many hundreds...

'Tisn't life that matters! 'Tis the courage you bring to it ... this from old Frosted Moses in the warm corner by the door. There might have been an answer, but Dicky Tasset, the Town Idiot, filled in the pause with the tale that he was telling Mother Figgis. And I ran - a mile or more with the stars dotted all over the ground for yer pickin', as yer might say....

There are certain things that I feel, as I look through this bundle of manuscript, that I must say. The first is that of course no writer ever has fulfilled his intention and no writer ever will; secondly, that there was, when I began, another intention than that of dealing with my subject adequately,...

“I confess that I do not see why the very existence of an invisible world may not in part depend on the personal response which any of us may make to the religious appeal. God Himself, in short, may draw vital strength and increase of very being from our fidelity. For my own part I do not know what...

His was the first figure to catch my eye that evening in Petrograd; he stood under the dusky lamp in the vast gloomy Warsaw station, with exactly the expression that I was afterwards to know so well, impressed not only upon his face but also upon the awkwardness of his arms that hung stiffly at his side,...

There is a God after all. That was the immense conviction that faced him as he heard, slowly, softly, the leaves, the twigs, settle themselves after that first horrid crash which the clumsy body had made.

Thou shalt have none other gods but Me.

About thirty years ago there was at the top of the right-hand side of Orange Street, in Polchester, a large stone house. I say “was”; the shell of it is still there, and the people who now live in it are quite unaware, I suppose, that anything has happened to the inside of it, except that they are...